📎A/N. Hello my lovelies, well it's been one of those weeks you just don't want to open the news paper. It's just as well we have books to immerse ourselves in :)

I'm so excited to be attending my very first writers event next weekend that I just had to share!! There are going to be some wonderful writers and industry insiders running sessions and workshops, and I'm am looking forward to listen to them speak. In particular, Nalini Singh is running one of the sessions *fangirling* so I am clearly going to have to go and buy a physical book for her to sign, as I can't exactly say, hey Ms Singh, can you sign my Kindle ;)

I hope you enjoy this chapter, if you do, don't forget to vote.

Take care and thank you for your continued support.

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Keira was numb. She knew things were happening around her, yet they sounded so far away. Not that that mattered, she couldn't hear anything over the dull buzz that hovered over her, refusing to budge, refusing to let her concentrate.

What day of the week is it? It was Friday... is it still Friday? I never liked Friday, it's too close to Monday.

Shapes came in and out of focus as she sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase in Deacon's foyer, and debated the day of the week.

I'm okay with Friday the thirteenth, though, it gets too much bad publicity if you ask me.

Keira felt something cold, and her mind focused on the source. The veil lifted piece by piece until she realised she was holding a glass of water.

"...should relax you."

She frowned, whatever had been said, she'd only caught the tail end. Keira looked up and realised Dayna had been speaking. "I'm sorry," she said shaking her head from side to side as if to wake herself from the nightmare in which she found herself. "What did you say?".

Dayna held out her palm; two small white pills rested side by side. "I said to take these."

"What is it?"

"A sedative—the good kind."

Keira tossed the offered medication in her mouth and washed it down with a half glass of water. She inhaled and filled her lungs to capacity, then let it out slowly. The image of Marcus's broken body swam to the front of her mind, and she let out a half sob.

Dead bodies didn't worry her. She was used to them. Fresh, not so fresh, and everything in-between. However, nothing had prepared her for witnessing her friend's body, violently ripped from this life, decades before he was due.

Dayna took a seat next to Keira. Her forehead puckered, and her eyes turned glassy. "It doesn't get easier with time, does it?" She sighed and lowered her eyes. "You'd think by now we'd be used to it."

She turned and stared into empty space. This has to be a dream; he can't be gone. "How am I going to tell Queenie?" Keira's voice broke with the effort to not close down.

"That's his grandmother, right?"

Keira nodded, and her eyes began to prick at the effort to not break down again.

"Queenie is a New Orleans witch I met just after I returned. She's the one who encouraged me to teach." She took a laboured breath. "This is going to devastate her."

Unable to withstand the pain any longer, Keira let her body mourn in the only way it knew how. Her shoulders slumped, and her body shook with each sob as it tore out of her too tight chest. She continued to weep until her body was too exhausted to shed any more tears.

Once the sedatives took effect, Keira replayed the events of the evening over and over until it made her physically ill. There was nothing to indicate they were being watched or targeted. We didn't plan on being there. So what made him a target?

"He was just a boy. His life hadn't started yet." She turned to Dayna. "Why? Why did they do this?"

Dayna pulled Keira into an embrace. "Oh honey, you and I both know people don't need a reason. Bad shit happens to good people, and the worst is reserved for those who are virtuous."

The truth in her sister's words wasn't lost on her. They had lost so many over the years that Keira, unable to withstand any more hurt, had withdrawn and refused to get close to anyone for fear they may be gone at any moment. Marcus and his grandmother had been one of the rare exceptions to the rule.

This was in direct contrast to Dayna who surrounded herself with friends and lovers. Keira had always wondered how Dayna could go through life losing a piece of her heart each time she had to move on, or death took them.

A slow burning rage at the injustice seethed to the surface.

Keira wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and pulled herself upright. Her face set into a grim, determined line. "Well, it's about time that changed. I have no doubt whatsoever that the Order is behind this." Her eyes narrowed, and she clenched her fists so tight her nails cut into her palms. "That was the last innocent they'll destroy for their cause. We've lost too many of the people we love, and it's damn well going to stop. The gloves are coming off; if they want a fight, I'm going to take it right to them."

Dayna whooped, and her fist shot up. "Let's kick the tires and light the fires."

Keira, too shocked at her sister's sudden outburst, stared wide-eyed at her without comment.

"What?" asked Dayna, when she noticed Keira's expression. "I've waited twenty years to be able to use that line."

"And you chose that moment to live out your fantasy."

Dayna scrunched her nose at Keira and poked out her tongue. "You're no fun. Momma would have loved that line."

Keira cocked her head and stared off into the distance. Many things had worn with time, memories of their mother hadn't. She let out a mournful smile. "She would've, wouldn't she?"

Both sisters fell quiet. Keira's mind wandered back to a time her biggest concern was finishing her chores so she could go and play with her friends. If only life had remained that simple.

"What do you think she'd make of all this?" Dayna asked, breaking the silence.

Keira rested her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in the palms of her cupped hands. "I've been wondering the same thing lately. I can't help feel she knew that this was coming. We've never understood her last words or the reason for our curse."

"You know, most people would consider not aging a blessing, not a curse," Dayna pointed out. "And I can tell you right now, practice makes perfect, and I have had the time to make my skills so perfect, I can make a man—"

Keira snapped her hands over her ears. "I don't need to know."

Dayna shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you're going into battle, you are going to have to sort out that tension you and Sheriff McSexy have going on first."

"Holy Batshit, Dayna," exclaimed Keira. "Can we not have a single conversation without you sinking to a whole new sordid level."

Dayna rolled her eyes. "Denial is not just a river in Egypt." She froze a moment then raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. "Just how long has it been? You do remember where everything goes don't you?"

"I am not having this conversation," said Keira as she threw her head into her hands.

"Just saying..." Dayna raised her open palms in the air. "There's lots of information you can get on the internet these days."

Choosing to ignore her sister, Keira moved the subject back onto safe ground. "From tomorrow we need to start casting protection spells around all the entrances and windows. I would rather be safe than sorry. I have no idea what we will be walking into in the morning. Even though Ryker will try and keep the lid on her death, someone is bound to have seen something, and they'll be panicked."

"Do you think they got the names from her?"

Keira shook her head. "No, her magic was weak, and she'd probably forgotten more than she could remember, but there was nothing frail about her disposition. The names went with her to the grave. That I am sure of."

"After what happened to the old woman, do you think they'll show?"

"Whether they do or don't tomorrow, they'll have no choice if I lift the shield and perform the calling myself."

Dayna brought her hand to her cheek. "Do you think it will come to that?"

"I may not have any other option."

"Just how much are you going to tell them?"

Keira considered the question. It was the same one she had asked herself. It would all come down to how much of the covens past had been handed down. Only earth witches could become Crossroads, but that did not mean all earth witches belonged to the strongest coven. It wasn't common for a generational line to carry through to the coven, and as such, historical information wasn't always handed down. The current coven knew about the door and still kept it closed. The question was; did they know about the rest of their legacy?

"I'm just going to have to wing it," said Keira with a shrug.

Dayna let out a stifled laugh. "You've never winged anything in your life. Knowing you, plan A, B, C & D will be ready to go by the time we get there."

Keira chewed at her bottom lip. After losing Marcus, she was going to be more cautious than ever. "I'm not sure it's a wise decision for you to be there."

"Why ever not?"

"Right now, I am just some university professor called in to help out with a ritual multiple murder case. The local Supernatural have no idea I am anything other than what their mayor and sheriff tell them I am. After tomorrow that all changes."

Dayna narrowed her eyes and took a long hard look at Kiera. "What exactly are you up to?"

"I'm going to give the Order a target they can't resist."

"Please don't tell me you're going to do something rash?"

"If tonight has taught us anything, it's that they are everywhere. The moment the others step out into the light they'll be instant targets. I will not allow them to win again, we have already lost far too much to their cause. No more. If they want to come after someone, they can come after me."

"That's why I should be there."

Keira shook her head. "You need to focus on Annie's journal. I can't help but feel unlocking it will take us directly to who's behind this. Each of the original five killed knew the person who led them to their death. They trusted them enough to lie about where they were." She paused and looked directly at her sister. "If anything happens to me, they'll still have you."

Dayna clinched her jaw and wrapped her arms tighter around her legs. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You'll need someone to have your back."

"I do. Two Vampires."

"Yes, but Deacon can't be with you all the time," argued Dayna.

"Ryker is more than capable, and he's just as determined to find who did this. I'm not doing this to throw my life away on a whim. We need to find them, and soon. I have a bad feeling we are running out of time."

"Do you think the door will hold?" asked Dayna, her expression full of worry.

Keira stared at the small chip in the marble tile at her feet. Whether it was because of the reduced power flowing to it, or whether it was because the coven had neglected it, she couldn't be certain. The door was sealed, but the visit to Mystery Hill had shown her it wasn't as strong as it once was. The fissures and cracks around it also concerned her. She now knew how her mother felt; helpless.

"It's only as strong as the coven feeding it. As I said, I may have no choice but to reconnect," Keira said.

Dayna's eyes widened, and her head spun to face Keira. "There must be another way."

"If there is, I can't see it. While the coven may have become complaisant with time, the Order clearly hasn't." Keira's brows bumped together in a scowl. The little nagging voice at the back of her head pushed forward and once again voiced its concern. "The thing I don't get is why now? Why not fifty, one-hundred or two-hundred years ago? What makes now so special?"

"You don't think it's just random?"

Keira shook her head. "Not by a longshot; and I have the feeling that if we don't work it out soon, it may be too late." She expelled her breath in a whoosh. "That's why we need to divide and conquer. You need to break the spell on the Journal."

Dayna yawned and pulled herself up from the bottom step. "I'm going to get some beauty sleep. I'll take another crack at it in the morning and see if I can find anything in the grimoire that might tell us about what makes now special." She placed a hand on Keira's shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"

Keira nodded and threw her sister a weak smile. "I'll be fine, you go up."

Dayna was almost to the top of the stairs when Keira called out, "If you manage to unlock the journal..."

"You'll be the first to know. I'm not that ditzy. See you in the morning."

The foyer lapsed into silence the moment Dayna disappeared from view. It was as if the light that glowed whenever she was around made any space feel darker than it actually was when she left.

Keira's throat became dry as she held back the grief that floated over her the moment her sister left.

Dayna was right. Losing loved ones to death didn't get any easier with time. This was the exact reason she tried not to make any. The lump in her throat became more pronounced as her mind drifted back to the moment she saw Marcus's body; his lifeless eyes that stared back at her. A pale comparison to the man he was, and the promise of what and who he had the potential to become.

Keira's cheeks grew damp as tears once again escaped and ran free.

Too upset to sleep, and unwilling to meet the nightmare that was awaiting her, Keira made her way to the lounge and curled up on the window seat that overlooked the front of the property. Every now and then, she detected a movement as their protection kept vigil while Ryker and Deacon dealt with the aftereffects of the two murders.

The decision to return her and Dayna to the safety of the house was not something she had willingly agreed to. Ryker forcibly placed her in the car and threatened to lock her up if she didn't see reason. Remembering some of the adjectives hurled at him, Keira cringed.

They must all think me mad.

Keira continued to stare into the abyss. Each minute seemed to last hours as the time passed with agonising slowness.

It was the suspense that was killing her.

Has he found who did this? Did they make sure to get all the evidence?

Keira groaned inwardly. "Get a grip," she whispered. "The man knows what he's doing."

However, knowing it would be hours until he cleared both scenes, didn't help her impatient thoughts.

It was near dawn when Ryker's dented cruiser pulled into the driveway. Deacon had returned an hour before, just as she had downed two more sedatives, and headed directly to his room. She fully expected Ryker to do the same, so when he suddenly materialised just inside the doorway her body recoiled in shock, and her hand flew to her chest.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"It's okay, you just spooked me, that's all."

While the light from the moon wasn't enough to make out his expression from this distance, it was enough to see his hesitation.

"How are you holding up?" Ryker asked as he made his way across the room.

He made a motion he wanted to sit, and she shuffled to make space.

For a while they sat and stared into the darkness, the ticking heartbeat of the grandfather clock marched along as the minutes drew out.

"Sometimes I hate my job," Ryker said breaking the silence. His voice came out bitter. "You get so used to dealing with layers of dirt, you sometimes forget there are decent people out there." He cleared his throat. "I know the words are hollow and meaningless, but I truly am sorry for what happened to Marcus. If I knew how to take away your pain, I would."

The lump in her throat returned, and she blinked rapidly, determined not to cry again. Despite her efforts, a single tear escaped and trickled downward.

"Did you find anything that might give a clue who did this to him?" she asked.

Ryker's hand came up to cup her cheek, and he gently swiped his thumb at the runaway tear. "Nothing—" He pulled his arm away and grunted in irritation. "And the same big fat zero at Beatrice's. She was roughed up pretty bad. Whoever did it was a sadistic SOB, in the worst possible way. They got in and out without being seen; left no evidence; and knew she was there when she shouldn't have been. The forensics team couldn't find any prints, and the ME believes gloves were used so we won't get any DNA off her body. I'm at the point I'm ready to tear this Order of yours to pieces—one strip at a time."

She understood the compulsion. Her need for revenge had just gone into overdrive. "I think I might know a way you can get your wish."

"Doc, if you have any bright ideas, I'm all ears."

Kiera outlined her plan. From his tense posture and crossed arms, as she spoke, she was dreading his response.

Once she had finished, Ryker rubbed his jaw and remained silent. She was wondering if he was ever going to say anything when his voice came out stiff. "Let me get this straight—you're going to make yourself a decoy?"

She nodded.

"And the plan is, we catch them when they make a move on you?"

"Uhumm."

The low growl that hummed through the room didn't bode well, and Keira grimaced.

He raked his fingers through his hair and continued to stare intently at her. "My first instinct is to lock you in your room until you see sense. I'd put bars on the window if it would keep you safe." Ryker let our another angry growl. "Apart from the fact that it's idiotic, and not to mention dangerous, I kinda like having you around; I would hate for something to happen to you before we had a chance to finish what we nearly started."

Keira bolted upright and opened and closed her mouth in a fish-like motion. Before she could formulate a comeback, Ryker let out a dry laugh and leaned in closer so that she could see the whites of his eyes. "Mark my words Doc, you and I have some unfinished business." The gravel in his voice sent shockwaves through her veins, as a ripple of desire surged through her body.

"I-I don't know what you mean." She hoped he didn't hear the lie, or detect her heightened state.

Ryker's knowing saucy grin confirmed he had. "If it's any consolation, you have the same effect on me." He let out a sigh and sat back. "But now is not the time nor the place. You've been through enough of an emotional roller-coaster tonight. You need to rest before we head out."

Easier said than done. Try as she might, she hadn't been able to close her eyes during her vigil.

"I don't think I can."

Ryker reached for Keira and pulled her towards him. "If you are going to paint a bull's eye on your head; you'd better damn well have your wits about you. Even if I have to knock you out, I will."

He tugged on her shoulders and nudged her into a lying position. Keira suddenly found herself sprawled along the window seat with her head resting on his lap and a blanket over her. "Now tell that brain of yours to shut up and let you sleep."

Kiera felt the feather soft brush of his fingers as he swept her hair away from her face. A moment later, he began to run his hand through her hair. The light caress of each stroke became hypnotic as she closed her eyes and gave into the calming sensation.

"You'd better be as strong as I think you are, or I will never forgive myself," he murmured.

With each stroke, her muscles relaxed a little more. The stress and grief dissolved, leaving only a sense of contentment. It had been a long time since she had felt as safe.

Well, that's one for the books. A witch safe with a vampire.

The irony wasn't lost on her. But Ryker had been right about one thing; she was drawn to him in a way that defied logic. Her body ached to know his touch, while her brain revelled in his ability to know which buttons to push. He was both frustrating and disarming at the same time. A combination as lethal as the man.

Keira wasn't stupid enough to think anything could come of it. He was a vampire after all; they were notorious for the trail of broken hearts left in their wake.

I don't intend to be the next conquest.

Her mind kept on repeating his earlier declaration. Maybe, just once she'd dine on the forbidden fruit.

As he continued, she could feel herself drifting. If I was a cat, I'd be purring about now.

He was too good at this to not have done it a thousand times before. The image of the leggy blond Ryker took out for a Quickie returned in full force. At the memory, she was torn between pushing him away and erasing the vivid picture in her mind of him with his blond lover.

"Who's Deidre?"

There, it was out there now. She wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

Without stopping his gentle strokes, he said, "My live blood donor, why?"

At his words, relief spread through her. This was quickly followed by embarrassment at her assumption. "No reason, I just thought I'd seen her before."

Ryker chuckled. "That I very much doubt. You both walk in very different worlds. Who did you think she was?"

Keira remained silent. She couldn't even come up with a lie.

The back of Ryker's hand brushed across her cheek, and she could feel him let out a deep sigh. "Stop overthinking it and go to sleep before I change my mind about agreeing to this hare-brained scheme you and your broomstick dreamt up."

Keira closed her eyes and let the fatigue wash over her. She was almost asleep when she could have sworn she heard Ryker say in a very low voice, "There has never been anything between us. She supplies me with warm blood, that's all."

Unable to hold on anymore, she fell asleep wondering if he'd actually said the words or if she'd dreamed it.

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📎A/N. Well it looks like Keira has channeled her grief into revenge!  And the sisters finally managed to get some bonding time.. even if it was under tragic circumstances.

... Although, I am not sure I like Keira's idea to make herself a target of the Order..

... And it looks like both Keira and Ryker are finally admitting their attraction to each other... but I feel our little Keira is a tad more hesitant about it... what do you think?

I will be posting updates for Witch Doctor midweek from now on, with Evolution posted Sundays.

Don't forget to vote :-)

Till next time, take care,

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